"Get it off me!" The man shrieked in a pitch that normally could only be achieved by boys before their voices changed. "Get it off!"

"Her," Rochus corrected as he crouched to pet Memory, who purred happily but didn't slow where she was licking away the blood from the cut on the man's cheek. "My cat is a lady, and being rude is not going to improve your chances of living. "

The man jerked and yelped, but between Memory and the magic pinning him in place, he wasn't going anywhere.

Rochus stood and removed his glasses, pulling out a cloth to clean them. "Now, then. You have been stealing and selling bodies without the permission of the demised or their surviving loved ones. You have been selling them to people who should not have them. I want a list of all your clients, and every last, single detail you can think of pertaining to them."

"I'm not telling you—"

"You can surrender the information while you live and breathe, or I'll let me cat feast on your brains and pull the information from your spirit," Rochus snapped, shoving his glasses back into place.